


Stockholm Syndrome (Or Something Similar)

by Dallas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Roleplay, Sexual Content, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:18:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dallas/pseuds/Dallas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellatrix Lestrange lingers long after she’s gone, no matter how hard the people she hurt try to move on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stockholm Syndrome (Or Something Similar)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for divagonzo1 during the HP Humpdrabbles Wishlist fest. (LiveJournal)
> 
> This was really strange to write... but as I quietly in the shadows of my own personal hell kind of a little bit ship Neville/Bellatrix... it wasn’t that difficult to imagine.

He’d called her to his office. She was extremely far from stupid, so she knew an owl from her Grandson’s Herbology Professor in his first year would not end up being about her Grandson. During her daughter’s schooling she had been summoned to Hogwarts enough times to know what the process was when something bad had happened. Given the letter had come directly from the boy (no, man) and not McGonagall, she’d been suspicious of it almost instantly. Now, after sitting in his office for a good twenty minutes as they discussed Teddy’s enthusiasm for the subject, she’d become well aware of the real reason he had asked to meet with her.  
  
As their discussion came to an end, Andromeda gingerly placed her cup in the matching saucer and studied him. Her expression was dignified, it always had been. She was a Black after all, no matter what the damned tapestry suggested. One perfect eyebrow raised sharply as though she was preparing to rip the younger wizard to shreds. “Now that we have the formalities out of the way, and we can honestly tell anyone who may ask that we discussed my Grandson’s fine achievements under your marvellous tutelage,” she noted that the young man had the decency to look guilty. “Shall we discuss why you summoned me here, Mr Longbottom?”  
  
“You intrigue me,” he said, almost instantly.  
  
“Is this the part where you remind me, as have a great many people, that I strongly resemble my elder sister?” Her right arm tensed and she pulled it in closer to her, putting her tea aside. A physical scar to join the emotional ones two wars had brought her.  
  
“I can help with that,” Neville stood and moved over to his shelves on instinct, seemingly ignoring her question. “There’s a root to help calm the nerves...”  
  
She looked at him sharply, relaxing her arm. “I was the Chief Healer at St Mungo’s for twenty years, Mr Longbottom, do you presume to tell me how to treat nerve damage?” The longer he skirted around the issue the more frustrated she became. “I may no longer be a practising Healer, but there is number of things I could be doing at this moment rather than wait for you to cut to the chase.”  
  
He licked his lips and leant against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms firmly as he studied his guest. “You are like her,” he agreed. Finding his voice was considerably easier for him when he was put on the spot. There wasn’t so much bumbling about then. “Twins almost. Though your eyes are lighter, wider, and your hair...”  
  
“Mr Longbottom, I was born almost exactly a year after my sister,” she cut in. “In fact, a week before her first birthday. You are welcome to make your observations, however, if you think I haven’t heard every potential comparison you intend on making in the last fifty seven years I’m afraid you’re sorely mistaken.”  
  
“I’m worried there may be something wrong with me,” he admitted. As her expression turned from annoyed to curious, he licked his lips and dropped his arms to bury his hands in his pockets. “There’s no one I can talk to about this, no one who would understand.”  
  
“About Bellatrix?” In response he licked his lips again and nodded, causing her to smirk. It was all coming together. “You’ve waited eleven years for this, for the right moment. My, my... you probably jumped at the chance to take this teaching position. It did seem like a strange move, such an accomplished Auror - a war hero - throwing it all away to teach Herbology. But you knew Teddy would be receiving his letter in time and that gave you the perfect opportunity to stage this little meeting. To think, all these years I thought the Potters were making an effort not to invite the two of us to the same events... but you were refusing, no doubt. Eventually they would have just given up asking if they intended for Teddy and I to be present...” she pursed her lips together and stood up slowly, her eyes never leaving his. Yes, she had him all figured out and she had to admit his effort was quite impressive.  
  
“A-A-At first I felt uncomfortable...” he stammered slightly. He hadn’t expected such a response from her. Though, to be fair, he hadn’t been certain what to expect and she’d kept him on his toes from the moment she arrived.  
  
“I’ll bet you did,” there was a playful tone to her voice, an all too _familiar_ playful tone, as she moved closer to him. “It started in the Ministry, didn’t it? Seeing her for the first time. She wasn’t a photo or a portrait, nor words on a page, she was there – flesh and blood.”  
  
“The photos in the paper were always Azkaban photos,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “She was restrained and wearing rags in all of them.”  
  
“Ah, but knowing my sister, she was wearing a dark dress with a firm corset. The kind of dress that accentuated the curve her hips and breasts... She was the embodiment of seduction,” as she closed the distance between them, she leaned in to breathe against his ear. “Resistance was futile.”  
  
He closed his eyes as her words drifted across his ear. He could smell her perfume, feel her own breasts pressing against his chest, and he was very aware of her left hand resting at his belt. It was wrong. Surely if he was going to have an affair with a woman it shouldn’t involve fantasizing about her deceased sister, particularly when the aforementioned sister had left him an orphan. Yet, Andromeda didn’t seem to mind. And if Andromeda didn’t mind then surely it couldn’t be all that bad. At least, as he removed his hands from his pockets and drew her hips against his, he certainly hoped not.  
  
“Did she use the voice?” her own voice was husky as the question lingered between them, before it suddenly changed completely into baby talk. “Ickle baby Neville...” she could feel him growing hard against her with each imitation of her sister. “Baby wants to play?”  
  
Raising a hand to grasp the back of her neck, he pulled her into a hungry kiss. He could feel her fingers working to unbuckle his belt, their tongues fighting for dominance as he moaned into her mouth. All common sense had flown out the window. He wasn’t about to be foolish enough to dismiss an opportunity being handed to him on a silver platter. As he felt her unbutton his trousers effortlessly he turned them around and pressed her against the desk, his arm moving to knock various objects out of the way as he lay her down. Her teeth bit at his lower lip, eagerly sucking at it as his hands moved under her skirts with surprising skill.  
  
She didn’t have time to think about what she was doing. Perhaps she didn’t want to think. Her intelligence was her strong suit and it had been a long time since she could just let go of everything. But moments later when he entered her, groaning as she continued to hiss ridiculous taunts, she found that the only thought on her mind was him. She wrapped her thighs tightly around his waist, rocking her hips up as he thrust into her. The poor broken boy had lost everything because of her sister, just as she had lost everything because she chose a boy over that same sister. Her fingers slid through his hair, holding his head to her as his teeth grazed her breast. She let her own head fall back, curls tumbling over the edge of the desk, as a single tear slid from the corner of her eye. What she was doing was wrong. Letting him take her and live out his own clandestine fantasies all because it was something she desperately needed. Yet the more she convinced herself it was wrong the tighter her thighs clenched around him, urging him on.  
  
There was no denying her blood was Black.


End file.
